


Gotham Can Wait

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Caring, Fluff, JayTim Week, Love, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7685767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's woken up by the alarm to his safe house going off. It's far too early in the morning for coherent thought, but he <i>knows</i> it means business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gotham Can Wait

**Author's Note:**

> For JayTimWeek over on tumblr. Day 5: Bruised & Battered  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "A Modern Myth (Without Hidden Track)" by Thirty Seconds To Mars

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

Jason groped around on his nightstand for his phone, groaning as he pried open his eyes, gaze finding the clock a few feet in front of his face. Four eighteen in the damn morning. 

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Okay, okay, shit. I get it!" Jason finally fumblingly grasped his phone off the nightstand, the fog in his mind - having only been asleep for a measly hour - lifting enough to allow him to realize this wasn't just any annoying sound screeching from his phone. No. It was what he'd set to inform him that one of his safe houses had been broken into. _That_ was definitely important enough to pull him out of the haze he was in.

Sitting up, he tossed the covers back and swung his legs over the side of the bed. One hand scrubbed at his face while the other unlocked his phone and pulled up the alert. He sent back the kill code for the alarm and then pulled up the app that let him see what was happening inside the house, room-by-room.

It flickered to life on his screen, the living room on display, showing the sliding glass door open but nothing more than that in the room. Nothing was disturbed beyond that. He flicked to the bedroom, noting the door was still closed and nothing seemed out of place. The bathroom came up on the feed and the first thing he noticed was the trail of blood leading toward the tub, though he couldn't see that far on the camera. 

"Well good fucking morning to me then." Jason was up in an instant, shoving the phone on the nightstand as he yanked on his suit, which he'd left in pieces scattered across his floor. Pants, shirt, armor, jacket, holsters, helmet, and boots. Tying the last lace, he snatched up his phone and headed to the hidden panel in his bathroom wall, opening it and pulling out both of his guns and his utility belt. Armed, he grabbed the keys for his bike and pushed his in-ear comm in as he made the leap off of his balcony onto the street below.

Two blocks over at top running speed, he found his bike exactly where he'd left it and swung his leg over the seat, starting it in nearly the same motion. He didn't stop the whole way because he couldn't think of anyone other than one of his own family who would decide his safe house was a good place to bleed all over the damn floor. If they were bleeding that much, he'd be damn lucky if he found them still breathing. Luckily, they were all tough as nails and he had a damn prayer even if they weren't. 

He sped through Gotham like a bat out of hell, swerving to miss the random early-morning pedestrian, dodging between the traffic coming in for the next shift downtown, and finally pulled up at the building, stashing his bike behind some shrubs. Normally, he'd have parked a few blocks out and hoofed it the rest of the way. But not tonight. Not when someone's life was clearly on the line. 

He took the stairs several at a time all the way up to the fifth floor, not even bothering with being stealthy about it. He unholstered his gun and unlocked the door, slamming the door shut behind him and darting through the house toward the bathroom. It was foolish, perhaps, but he knew inherently that this was either going to be someone needing his help so desperately they'd clung to the idea that his alarm would force his hand in coming or someone who wanted to show him a dead body in his apartment. Either one probably meant no harmful company for the moment. 

Stepping into the bathroom, he reacted before he could even truly register the situation in the forefront of his thoughts. Tim lay in the tub, blood smeared over the edges of it where he'd dragged himself into it, and the remnants of his first aid kit scattered across the rim. He could register Tim's breathing, see his chest rising and falling, but he couldn't tell how bad the damage was, the red and black of Tim's suit making it difficult. 

He shoved his gun into his holster and snatched up a towel as he damn near climbed into the tub with Tim, hunching over him and cupping his cheek with the toweled hand, reaching to find his pulse with the other, feeling how thready it was. "Baby bird... if you can hear me, I'm here. I came for you, just like you knew you would." He reached to pull up the edge of Tim's top where he'd clearly already done so, finding he'd slapped some bandages over a wound, though he was rapidly bleeding through them. "Okay, boy genius, let's figure out what the fuck happened to you, hmm?"

Squatting down, Jason moved his top up, seeing if there was an exit wound on his back. Noting there wasn't, he winced, praying for a stab wound, not a bullet wound. No exit on a bullet would mean terrible pain for Tim, which would mean screaming, which would mean questions. Jason didn't need questions. More so, he didn't need Tim dying on him.

Peeling up the haphazard tape, he moved the gauze aside, reaching for the already uncapped wound wash and dumping some over the bloody mess. For a moment, he could see a very clean cut, though he could only assume how deep it probably went. Pushing around the area, he judged the amount of blood and then wiped at it with the towel, settling astride Tim's legs and reaching for the needle and thread.

A few tries later, he had it threaded and started to stitch Tim up. The first pierce of the needle through skin had Tim's eyelids fluttering open, his unfocused gaze on Jason's face. He whispered out, "Three... more..." and then he was out like a light again, boneless under Jason's busy hands. Sighing, he reached to dab at the wound again, finishing up stitching it and then butterfly taping it and covering it with gauze after one more rinse with the wound wash. 

He hunted down two more, one on his arm and another on his torso. Unable to find the last one in this position, he pulled himself up out of the tub and then struggled to get Tim out of it as well, finally lifting him and carrying him bridal style to the bedroom where he carefully eased him down onto the bed. The rip in the fabric of his suit at the top of his thigh told Jason all he needed to know and he sighed, reaching to unfasten Tim's utility belt and then his pants, easing them down his hips and then going back to get the supplies. 

He set to work on the wound, treating it just the same as all of the others, bandaging him up and then finishing getting his pants off before he rolled him over and tugged the covers up around his lower half. He was glad Tim had had the foresight to remove his winged cape and had lost his shoes somewhere before the whole ordeal had started. 

The next ten minutes were spent cleaning up the bathroom floor and the tub, disposing all of the bloody mess, closing the sliding glass door and setting the door alarm again. Only then did he go back to the bedroom, settling against the headboard beside Tim, watching his breathing for a bit, hoping he didn't need a transfusion, though he had no way of knowing how much blood he'd lost before he had arrived here. Bringing up a direct line to Bruce, he hit the comm link and tilted his head back, waiting on it to indicate it had connected. When it did, he breathed out, "B, I've got Red Robin up in here. Pretty bad in the damage department, but breathing and patched up." He knew better than to even remotely hedge around with Bruce.

A few moments and then the sound of something breaking before Bruce grunted across the line. "Stable?"

"I think so. It's not like I'm set up for it here."

"Where's here?"

"Safe house." He knew Bruce would understand which one, even if he did know about the others. Mostly because he only officially knew about one. Just like all the rest of them. 

Reaching over, Jason gently ran his knuckles over Tim's cheek. "Smart kid, ya know? He knew it'd set off my alarm."

"A smart kid wouldn't have gotten himself into-"

"Oh, can it, B. We've all been here. Not one of us can say a damn thing. Wanna know why?" He didn't even bother to wait for Bruce to say anything. "Because he's the only damn one of us not to die on the job. He's got more brains than most of us combined. So don't give him shit. Probably had some unexpected visitors en masse. Nothing he could have escaped or something like that. Though, of course... he _did_."

"Did what?" Bruce's breathing indicated he was moving between buildings now and Jason knew he was on the way here. 

Dropping his hand, Jason pushed himself up and went to stand next to the sliding glass door, waiting on Bruce's arrival, knowing without asking that he was on the way here. "Escape."

They were silent for a while, only the sound of one another breathing causing any sound over the line at all. By the time Bruce dropped down onto the balcony, Jason was honestly about half asleep on his feet. Breathing out a little huff of a sigh, he straightened, flicking off the alarm and sliding the door open. Bruce stepped in and Jason closed the door behind him, flicking on the alarm and then nodded toward the bedroom. 

Together they made their way into the room, Jason taking up his previous perch beside Tim on the bed, Bruce pulling over a chair and settling next to Tim, reaching to take his wrist, feeling his pulse. First one wrist and then the other. "Responsive?"

"He woke up long enough to tell me he had more wounds then the obvious one I was treating... when the needle went in."

Bruce hummed softly, pulling off his glove and laying his hand over Tim's forehead and then feeling his cheek. Leaning down, he offered a quiet, "Tim? You in there?"

Tim mumbled something and started to turn over, Jason reaching to gently stop him from doing so, knowing it'd cause him a world of pain. "You think he's okay?"

"Likely. If he gets a fever or starts anything strange, let me know. But I think you took care of it." Bruce let his hand rest on Tim's, finally disengaging his white-out lenses and looking up at Jason. " _You_ okay?"

Jason offered him a weak smile, shrugging. "Tired as fuck. But... yeah, I'm good."

"Then, tonight, Gotham can wait." Bruce sat back in his chair, sliding his glove on again and focusing his gaze on Tim. 

With a smile that he did his best to hide, Jason moved to ditch parts of his outfit, though not nearly as much as he had at home. Sliding down onto the bed, he reached over and laced his fingers with Tim's own, closing his eyes as he brought their joined hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there. "You'll be okay, baby bird. No one's letting you go tonight."


End file.
